Stunned, I blinked. Here, after my years of reading of his adventures and mysteries, was the great detective himself.
"Forgive me for frightening you," he added as though it was an afterthought. "You are Mrs. Hudson's new maid, I presume?"
"Frightened? Oh, no! That wonderfully done, sir! As well or better than any actor on stage!" I exclaimed impulsively. I cringed as I belatedly realized I'd broken one of the main rules of a housemaid: never offer your opinion to your employer. "I beg your pardon, sir. I am the temporary maid, yes."
He seemed not to have noticed my lapse. Instead, Mr. Holmes was studying me with interest. "As you will be the one assisting Mrs. Hudson until she recovers, I think it only right I know your name."
It was my moment to speak up! I opened my mouth to answer him with my real name. Before I could speak, though, Mrs. Hudson called up. "Leigh? Leigh! Is that you?"
"Duty calls," Mr. Holmes said with a chuckle. He waved his hand. "Run along, Leigh. A fire will be in order once Mrs. Hudson has been informed of my return. Also, hot water as soon as it can be brought up. And tea in a few hours. Dr. Watson will be needing all three."
"Right away, Mr. Holmes," I said, backing my way to the door. I bobbed a small curtsy, grabbed my supplies, and made a quick exit. Of course, it would make more sense to wait for a more appropriate time to explain why I was there and ask for his help.
There would be time enough in the evening, or even in the morning.
Mrs. Hudson looked up from her mending as I entered the kitchen. "I thought I heard someone in the hall but didn't hear the door. Did you finish Mr. Holmes' rooms?"
"I was almost done but Mr. Holmes has requested hot water as soon as I can carry it up," I said, setting down my dusting supplies. "He said Dr. Watson will need tea in a few hours once they have washed and rested. Oh, and I must light a fire as soon as possible."
"Oh, dear," Mrs. Hudson said, looking faintly worried. "I do hope he didn't startle you, Leigh. His ways can be....eccentric at times."
I let out a laugh. "Oh, he startled me for a moment, I will confess, but nothing more than that," I said and then explained how Mr. Holmes had entered the room. Mrs. Hudson just shook her head. "My reaction seemed to have amused him."
"Did I hear you singing while you were working?"
My cheeks flushed. "Yes, ma'am." I hesitated and then added, "It's probably why I didn't Mr. Holmes enter."
"You're a fine singer, which I know Mr. Holmes appreciates. Well, hurry up and get hot water up there for him. I'll get tea started."
I'd only carried water up the stairs once for Colonel Forest. There seemed to be some trick I didn't know to hurry and not spill the hot water on myself. The door to Mr. Holmes' bedroom was closed and I hesitated to knock on it. Instead, I set the tin of hot water where he could get it and then carried the other one up for Dr. Watson.
There was no sign of the water when I returned to the sitting room. I knelt to light the fire there, and it remained otherwise quiet. My tasks complete, I hurried out and, on my way down the steps, encountered a weary-looking man who had just put his foot on the first step. He was gracious enough to step back and allow me down first. He nodded, acknowledging me and then continued on his way to Apartment B.
Dr. Watson, then. I wondered what they had been doing that they should arrive separately and the doctor to look so tired. Of course, it really was none of my business.
Perhaps a future story from Dr. Watson's pen would explain it all.
****
With Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson returned, Mrs. Hudson sent me out for more fresh baked goods. In the hopes that there would be some reply that would offer a clue, I stopped at the telegraph office. Ignoring the flirtations from the young man behind the counter, I quickly read the response. They had not heard from my mother since the concert the previous summer.
I crumpled the message in my hand. There was no one left to contact. None of my parents' friends had heard from them in months. My father's colleagues claim my father had taken a well deserved leave of absence.
Nowhere close to solving the mystery of my parents' disappearance and pastries in hand, I made it back to Baker Street. I helped Mrs. Hudson prepare tea and then took it upstairs. My first trip was to Colonel Forest's room and my second for the occupants of 221B.
Outside the door, I took a deep breath. Balancing the full tray in my right hand, I turned the doorknob with my left hand and pushed the door open with my foot.
As I entered the sitting room, I had my first good look at both men. Mr. Holmes was as I had expected: tall, thin, black hair going grey. He did not look as old as I had thought he would. The illustrations in The Strand had not done him justice. He was seated in front of the fire, filling his pipe.
At the desk in the corner, Dr. Watson looked up from the notes he was making. He had brown hair, shorter than his companion, and his build was stouter. My guess was if I were to see them side by side, the doctor would be shorter. The mustache on his upper lip reminded me of my father's.
"Ah, tea," Mr. Holmes said, setting his pipe aside. He wore a dressing gown and slippers. He glanced up briefly. "Thank you, Leigh. Just what we need after the day's exertions."
I bit my lip to keep from blurting out my real name. If I did, I wouldn't be able to keep myself from spilling my entire story then and there. Seeing them at their ease reminded me that they had just returned from a case and had earned an evening's rest.
Morning would be time enough to appeal to them for help.
"Where shall I put this?" I asked, glancing between the small table beside Mr. Holmes to the larger table in the middle of the room.
Looking refreshed and somewhat rested, Dr. Watson jumped to his feet. "So you are the new housemaid," he said, taking the tray from my hands and setting it on the table. "Holmes was just mentioning that he had already crossed paths with you. It's about time Mrs. Hudson took my advice and got off that foot."
"Indeed, sir," I said with a smile. Had he forgotten he'd 'crossed paths' with me too? I bobbed a curtsy and started my retreat.
"Our young maid here is an admirer of the stage, Watson," Sherlock Holmes said, halting me before I had gone more than two steps. "Did you receive a favorable answer at the telegraph office, Leigh?"
How did he...? As I turned to face him, I tried to think of what clue was on my person that would have given it away. "Holmes, I beg of you not to frighten the girl," Watson said, his tone reproving. "You know what a hard time Mrs. Hudson has had at finding reliable help and I won't have you frightening away the only candidate with your observations of her character."
His concern made me smile, though I ducked my head to hide it. "You're amused, Miss Leigh?" Holmes asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, yes. Contrary to Dr. Watson's statement, you didn't make a statement about my character," I said, blatantly breaking the rules of a proper housemaid. "You deduced where I went this afternoon, which was to the telegraph office earlier." I hesitated a moment before adding, "There are bits of paper clinging to the hem of my skirt, aren't there?"
Mr. Holmes's eyes glinted with amusement. "I'm afraid so," he said. "Watson, you can hear for yourself that Mrs. Hudson's new helper is originally from America. New York to be exact, though she has spent the last—five, is it?—years north of London. Her mother was an American, and her father from London."
Watson looked at me quickly, no doubt wanting to make sure I was not startled. "Quite correct, sir," I said calmly. My accent had been a source of ridicule from my classmates, so it wasn't a surprise that a detective could hear it. "However did you know it had been five years?"
"I have made a study of how long it can take a young person to take on the accent of the country they are in," Mr. Holmes said with a wave of his hand. "Any easy enough deduction to make when you know the average."
Why was I not surprised? This was a gentleman who had made a study of anything that would have a bearing on his work. "Do you have anything else to add to my character?" I asked curiously.
"Nothing of importance beyond the fact that you have done very little work as a maid before," he said. He nodded towards my hands. "Had this been employment you were accustomed to, your hands would not be so raw from your tasks. You've not yet had the time to build up the calluses one sees on other maids. You might ask Mrs. Hudson for a salve."
"I will do that."
Dr. Watson yawned behind his hand. The poor man must be wanting his tea and then his bed. "If there is nothing else, I will be about my other duties," I said.
"Thank you, Miss Leigh," Mr. Holmes said. "Tell Mrs. Hudson that we will forgo our supper tonight. This tea shall suffice."
"Yes, Mr. Holmes." I backed to the door and slipped out. Once the door was shut, I breathed out a sigh and then stifled a giggle.
Tomorrow. First thing. Well, first thing after they had their breakfast. I would complete the tasks Mrs. Hudson asked of me and then present myself to Mr. Holmes to tell him about my parents.
Finally. I would have the help I needed and I could find out what had happened to my parents.
****
My good humor was not to last.
While the occupants of Apartment B did not require an evening meal, Colonel Forest did. When I carried up the man's supper tray, he was in an ill temper and full of complaints. The room was cold. The day had been damp. I hadn't been careful enough dusting his living space. How long did I expect to stay and be a torment to him?
I managed to bite my tongue to keep from answering back. Keeping my head down, I retreated when I really wanted to give him a piece of my mind. Down in the kitchen, I was mollified by Mrs. Hudson's excellent cooking.
However, I had to go back up to get the dishes. Colonel Forest had even more complaints this time. The soup Mrs. Hudson had made didn't taste right and why was the silver so dull? Why had I taken so long to come up? He didn't want to see the remains of his meal when he was finished eating.
By the time I escaped his room, all I wanted to do was throw the tray at the man's head. I wanted to scream and cry and kick my feet like a spoiled child. Breathing out, I closed my eyes and tried to compose myself.
"Are you all right, Miss Leigh?"
Startled, I looked up to find Sherlock Holmes standing in his doorway, pipe in hand. "I'm fine, sir," I said, straightening my spine.
"I heard the good colonel snapping at you," Mr. Holmes said by way of explanation. He paused. "He really needs to see Watson about his gouty foot. It may put him in better humor."
"Or perhaps be more careful when he goes out to visit his friends," I said in a low voice. My tale was on the tip of my tongue but the doorknob on the colonel's door jiggled. I glanced over my shoulder. "I apologize for disturbing you."
"You did not disturb me." Mr. Holmes studied me for a moment. "But I must not keep you from your work. I'm sure Mrs. Hudson would not be pleased with me if I were to distract you."
"Shall I take the tea things down?"
He raised an eyebrow at my already full hands. "Perhaps it would be best if I were to leave the tray outside the door and you can retrieve it when you are able."
"Of course." Why hadn't I thought of that? Probably because I would have attempted to carry it all in one go to save myself climbing the stairs one more time. "Thank you. Good night, Mr. Holmes."
His other eyebrow went up. What I had said this time that surprised him? "Good night, Miss Leigh." He gave a slight bow and then retreated back into his rooms. Breathing out, I started for the stairs.
One more trip was all I'd have to do that day, and glad I was of that fact! My feet had begun to ache, and I still had to clean up the kitchen before I could call my day complete.
Morning, and with it the opportunity to lay my case out for Mr. Holmes' consideration, would not come soon enough for me.